Katy Read online

  I took a deep breath.

  ‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ I said.

  Izzie looked at me. ‘Oh Katy, don’t tell me you’ve lost it!’

  ‘No. But – but I broke it.’

  ‘Oh no! And you were so proud to have Helen’s lovely necklace,’ said Izzie.

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’m hopeless. Nag at me all you want, Izzie, I deserve it.’

  But for once Izzie didn’t nag.

  ‘Where is it? Let me see if there’s any way I can mend it,’ she said.

  ‘I can’t even remember properly where I put it. It was the day of the accident. I tugged at the chain without meaning to and it broke. Everything was awful that day.’

  ‘I’ll find it. I’ve got to know most of your hiding places,’ said Izzie.

  She was as good as her word. She ran up to my room and came back within a minute with my treasure box.

  ‘You have a look. It’s your special box. I think you might have tucked it in here.’

  I opened my box silently, brought out the necklace and handed it to Izzie.

  ‘The seahorse isn’t broken; it’s just the chain. We can easily get that mended, you silly girl. And meanwhile you can use the chain on Cecy’s locket. Let’s see if we can thread your seahorse on to it,’ Izzie said.

  The chain threaded through the link on the seahorse easily.

  ‘There you are!’ said Izzie, doing up the clasp round my neck. ‘And don’t go tugging at this chain!’

  21

  I hugged Helen when she came. She only had short arms but mine were long, so we could both lean forward and embrace. I started crying again and then scrubbed at my eyes furiously, embarrassed.

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I’ve blubbed like a baby practically every day since the accident,’ I sniffed.

  ‘Of course you’ll cry, Katy! Who wouldn’t be sad? You’ve had your whole life turned upside down,’ said Helen.

  ‘Yes, but it was all my own fault,’ I wailed. ‘Did Izzie tell you how it happened?’

  ‘Yes, she did. It must seem so horribly unfair. A little swing from a tree! I bet a hundred thousand kids have swung from a tree just like that without falling. And if they did fall, very few would have the bad luck to hurt themselves so severely. A broken arm, a broken leg, and then they’d be as right as rain in a few weeks,’ said Helen.

  ‘Whereas I’m stuck like this forever and ever,’ I said.

  ‘Well, as far as we know. They might find some way of helping people walk again in ten or twenty years – who knows.’

  ‘And then we’ll both be able to walk!’

  ‘I don’t think so. My poor little legs have gone for a burton. I’ve had replacement hips and knees and yet I can only walk one or two steps like a clockwork soldier, then I fall over – clonk.’

  ‘Have you been stuck in a wheelchair ever since you were a baby?’ I asked. I hadn’t liked to ask the last time Helen came; it seemed much too rude and intrusive to bombard her with personal questions. But now we were both in the same situation it made everything seem different.

  ‘I was fine when I was really little. In fact, my mother says I was one of those toddlers that never kept still. I ran round and round the garden until I got dizzy and then I’d fall over, shrieking with laughter. But then I developed rheumatoid arthritis when I was three or four and I was in and out of hospital for most of my childhood.’

  ‘How did you get to be so brave? You never ever complain. Dad thinks you’re an absolute angel,’ I said earnestly.

  ‘Oh, that’s hilarious! I’m anything but. But how sweet that your dad sees me like that. I think he’s the angelic one. He’s always been so kind to me. My own father’s a bit withdrawn and has always been a bit awkward with me. I think my disability embarrasses him, though he’d never admit it. I used to fantasize that your dad was my dad. You’re so lucky to have him, Katy. I know he’s always taken time to play with all of you, and he reads aloud, doesn’t he? And he always talks to you sensibly and explains everything carefully. Whenever I cried as a little kid, because I hurt and I was scared of having injections and operations, he was always so gentle and understanding,’ said Helen.

  ‘Yes, I suppose I am lucky. He is a lovely dad. But actually he’s been a bit weird with me since the accident. He tries ever so hard, but he gets grumpy sometimes too. And he hates it when I get really upset. He keeps making out I’m doing splendidly, when I’m not,’ I said.

  ‘I think that’s because he loves you so much. He probably feels incredibly frustrated because he’s a doctor and yet he can’t cure you. He’s not even in charge of your medical care. He’s just a dad and he feels helpless.’

  ‘Yes, that’s it exactly! You’re so wise, Helen! Why can’t I work things out like that?’

  ‘Because you’re eleven and I’m more than twice your age,’ said Helen. ‘What about Izzie? How is she reacting?’

  I cocked my ear, making sure Izzie was still in the kitchen getting lunch ready. ‘Well. She’s been weird too. Before, she used to nag, nag, nag me all the time. We were always arguing. I could never do anything right. But now she’s horribly patient with me all the time.’

  ‘Horribly?’

  ‘Well, it sort of gets on my nerves. I don’t want her to be nicey-nice with me. I don’t want to have to feel grateful all the time.’

  ‘Oh yes. I understand that. It’s the great trial of the disabled: having to be bloody grateful when we can’t help ourselves and have to get people to do things for us,’ said Helen.

  ‘We had a big row yesterday, Izzie and me. I said horrible things to her. She did get angry then and say stuff back. But then she phoned you, which was lovely of her. I suppose I’m pretty horrible to her a lot of the time. And I’m mean to the others too, especially Elsie. It’s awful, Helen. I didn’t used to be such a nasty person, but now I can’t seem to help it.’ I was nearly crying again.

  ‘It’s because you’re angry. You go through all these stages when you’ve had a serious life change like your accident. You’re sad, you’re angry, you’re resentful, you’re depressed. Oh, it’s a right bore for you, and for everyone else!’

  ‘Did you go through all these stages?’

  ‘I’m sure I did when I was little. But it all happened more gradually for me. And now I can’t really remember ever being so-called normal. I’ve grown up different. Maybe it’s easier for people like me.’

  ‘But you’ve been ill longer.’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve grown up being used to it. This is me, this little person in her wheelchair, bowling along. Whereas I bet you don’t feel like you’re the real Katy any more.’

  ‘Yes! Oh, you’re the only person who really understands! Apart from Dexter. He’s this boy in the hospital. He used to say dreadful things to the nurses and do these really dark, wonderful, cartoony things. Dexter is the coolest boy I’ve ever met, but he’s kind of scary too. He emailed me once after I got home,’ I added proudly.

  I’d emailed him back – one, two, three times – but he hadn’t responded further.

  ‘It’s amazing how close you can get in hospital,’ said Helen. ‘You find yourself talking about real things, not all the trivial stuff.’

  ‘Yes, exactly. Like us! I feel like I’ve changed so much since the last time we met, when I just wanted to burble on about our silly games,’ I said.

  ‘You can still play games now. You can do all sorts of things. Those are my two favourite words, Katy. Can do!’

  ‘Well, that’s a bit daft,’ I said, then blushed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. But how can I do anything now? I can’t do a blessed thing!’

  Helen looked at me earnestly. She reached out and took hold of me by the shoulders, though it was a great stretch for her.

  ‘I think that’s maybe the big difference between those of us like me who’ve been disabled ever since they can remember and people like you who have become disabled overnight. You’re thinking right now of